Chapter Fourteen
Nothingness didn’t consume Caspian that night. When he opened his eyes, he found himself back at the cliffside palace instead. The scent of something a lot like rain hung thickly in the air. It stirred his nostalgia. Caspian took in a lungful of it and braced himself for what was to come.
Bran must have wanted to see him.
But Bran didn’t come.
Caspian sat amongst the black sheets, waiting. Candles burned, their flickering light casting shadows. He let his fingers trail along the silk, waiting, wondering, and then fearing that this was it—that he would be all alone.
“Bran?” Caspian asked cautiously.
No reply.
He waited in bed for a while longer. Wax dripped down the sides of the candles, marking the passage of time. Caspian watched as a thick glob of it dripped downward, coming to rest on top of the wax already pooled at the bottom of the holder.
“Bran?” he tried again.
There was nothing.
Caspian pulled back the sheets. Unlike in other dreams, he was fully dressed. Caspian plucked at his shirt. He was growing used to nudity when in Bran's world or their shared dreams, and to be concealed behind clothing made him itch. It wasn’t right.
“I’m sorry, Bran.” Caspian stood up. He knew his way through the open doorway in the darkness—he knew it. “I’m sorry we’re so different. I hope you don’t hate me for wanting to take things slow.”
Beyond the light from the candles, Caspian saw nothing. The palace was carved deep into the cliff, and no natural light shone through. He knew he had nothing to worry about, but a chill crept down his spine like a spider down its silk string. It had to be because he was alone.
Caspian hesitated in front of the darkness. His toes remained within the ring of light. Why was he so terrified?
“Bran?” Caspian swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth. He only needed some reassurance. “I love you. It’s just, it just seems like it’s all happening so fast, and I’m not ready. I need to know you better. I need to know that you’re going to let me into your life as much as I’ll let you into mine.”
Having a conversation with the empty darkness was pointless. Bran wasn’t there, right? Caspian felt like he was being watched, but he’d felt the same way in Dr. Kilpatrick’s house when Bran’s guard kept an eye on him. He had no reason to believe that Bran was the one watching. It could have been any raven of the congress or some other being.
Still, Caspian hoped against hope that Bran could see him and hear him.
“I’ve missed you,” Caspian admitted, sounding hollow. “You have no idea how sorry I feel about what happened. We’re just from two different cultures, you know? And we’ve got to adjust to one another.”
The darkness didn’t reply, nor did it look away.
“And that’s not a bad thing.” Caspian speech was rambling now and he knew it, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. “All it means is that we’ve gotta take some time to be transparent with each other. We’ve got to do our best to make sure that the other one knows what’s going on in our head, and what’s expected of them.”
Caspian wrung his hands, wondering if it were all a waste of breath.
"I don't understand how I'd fit into your world, into the royal family, I mean. I'm not sure the other ravens want a human in their midst. And maybe it doesn't matter, but I don't think they understand what you see in me."
Why would Bran have drawn him here if he didn’t want to talk?
“And I think, in the end, we both want the same thing. We just need to decide on the path we’re going to take to get there. I want to go slowly, and you… you don’t. That’s not bad. It just means we have to put our heads together and figure it out, right? I’m sorry that I got uncomfortable and told you I needed space. We can talk this out. We can work on our communication.”
Caspian wasn’t sure if his eyes were playing tricks on him, or if he actually saw movement in the darkness. He smiled, sure that Bran had been moved by his speech and was willing to step forward to talk it out.
“We can be happy,” Caspian promised. “We can make a life together. We can raise a family, just as you said. But… why don’t we give each other time to adjust to life as a couple? To each others values, customs, and cultures? There’s no need to rush.”
There was a movement in the shadows, but it didn’t belong to Bran. From the corner of his eye, Caspian saw as a shadowy tendril forced its way out of the darkness like a tongue pushing through bubblegum. Gasping, Caspian turned to face it.
It stretched toward him, lethargic and twisting.
He staggered back.
And took a step into the darkness.
A warm, wet, sticky substance adhered to his back and blocked his passage. Caspian yelped and tried to jump forward, but something thick and slippery coiled around his waist and glued his shirt to his chest. It held him firmly in place.
A nightmare.
Bran’s words resonated in Caspian’s head.
At rest, the soul wandered through dimensions. Some good, some evil.
And if this was a nightmare…
Caspian screamed. He thrashed forward, trying to free himself, but another tendril wrapped around his neck and dragged him backward, away from the light. The darkness would consume him, he realized. It was going to pull and poke and tear until he was a part of it.
Caspian let out a choked sob.
With a flash of blue-green, abruptly the shadows let him go.
Caspian lurched forward. He ran for the light, tripping over his own feet along the way. When he was close enough, he threw himself forward and hit the ground. The candlelight bathed him in safety. He wept in relief.
“Hatchling?” Bran asked from above. Soon enough, a reassuring hand stroked Caspian’s back. “Hatchling, you’re fine. It will be fine. I told you that I would be there, waiting. I told you that I would protect you. I didn’t lie. Don’t cry. You’re safe and loved.”
Caspian cried anyway. He curled up tight, ashamed and frightened. How long had it been since he’d had a nightmare?
Given the circumstances, he was surprised he hadn’t had one earlier.
“I am here,” Bran promised. His hand stroked Caspian’s back. It never strayed. “I am here. You have nothing to fear. We’re fine now. We’re fine.”
But everything wasn’t fine. Everything had fallen to pieces, and Caspian wasn’t sure what to do about it.
“Bran,” he said through his tears. “Bran, I—”
Caspian sat up, heart pounding.
He was at Dr. Kilpatrick’s house, in bed. The air conditioner hummed in the window, but his body was still damp from sweat. The dream had abruptly disappeared.
“Bran,” Caspian whispered. “Bran, I’m sorry.”
But Bran did not reply.
When he fully woke up, Caspian felt more frustrated than ever. He'd recovered from the bad dream. He'd seen Bran. He'd formulated his thoughts and organized them, and had said everything he wanted to say to Bran…
And he didn't know whether his raven prince had heard any of it.
More than anything, Caspian would like a reply.
At the very least, an acknowledgment that he'd been heard.
Nothing.
At least he was clearer in his own mind about a way forward for them.
Alex, the blond by West Point’s window with the Chai latte, was sitting next a young brunette man. They looked similar in age, and by their relaxed posture, they could be boyfriends.
When Alex saw him through the window, he waved energetically and grinned. Caspian had been considering getting back in his car and driving away, but now that Alex knew he was there, there was no escape.
Caspian entered the cafe.
“Look who’s here!” Alex beamed. “I was afraid you weren’t going to make it. Now sit, sit. I’ve got someone to introduce you to.”
The brunette turned in his chair. The strange green ring in one of his eyes burned brightly, almost too green to be real. Momentarily, Caspian wondered if he wore colored contacts, then realized the idiocy of that thought. He’d met men with naturally iridescent hair and who sprouted wings at will.
In Beaumont, the most likely explanation wasn’t a colored contact.
“Hi. I’m Pip.”
“Pip!” Alex groaned. “How am I supposed to introduce you if you introduce yourself?”
“Sorry. I guess I’m a little too enthusiastic. Or you're too slow.” They bumped shoulders together.
Taking a seat opposite them, Caspian sat at their table. “I’m Caspian.”
Alex covered his face with both hands. “Both of you are terrible at letting me introduce you. What’s the point of me being here if you’re just going to introduce yourselves to each other?”
“Don’t mind him.” Pip wrapped his hands around his cup of Chai. “He’s melodramatic.”
“I’ve met him once before, and I'm starting to think you’re right.” Caspian smiled. “I didn’t know you were going to be here today, but it’s nice to meet you.”
Alex peeped out from behind his fingers. “That’s what I was talking about on the phone when I mentioned fate. The one person I wanted you to meet was coming to meet me right when you called asking if we could talk. Coincidence? I think not. Also, I like what you did with your hair, by the way.”
Caspian ran his fingers through it out of reflex. “Thanks.”
Pip was looking, too. There was a distant look in his eyes like he was processing something, but then he shook his head and leaned toward Caspian on his elbows. “How long have you been here?”
“Just a few months,” Caspian said. “I’ve been house sitting for Dr. Kilpatrick, but he comes back in a few days.”
“Oh.” It sounded like Pip didn’t think Caspian had answered the real question.
Did he mean in this world? Caspian bit down on his lip.
“I’m from Riverside,” Caspian volunteered, hoping to clear the air. If Pip knew about other dimensions, it was possible he knew about the ravens. Maybe he mistook Caspian for one. “This is my first time in Beaumont.”
“He’s been spending a lot of time hiking.” Alex hitched a brow suggestively and tipped his cup to his lips.
“Have you?” Pip met his eye. Caspian was taken by the singular green ring. What was he? “So you’ve spent time exploring the forests?”
“I… have.” Caspian wasn’t sure how much information he wanted to volunteer. “I haven’t been back in a while. I had a bad experience.”
“Oh.” Pip looked down. “Yeah. Sometimes that happens. But you know, sometimes when you’re visiting some place new, it takes a while to adjust. Newness doesn’t always mean badness.”
“I don’t know. When I came to Beaumont, I felt like I’d found somewhere that suited me perfectly,” Caspian said. “And now it’s like… it’s like I’m not certain.”
They spoke between the lines, but Caspian felt sure that their conversation had moved onto weightier, more important matters. It wasn’t just a question about fitting in at Beaumont or having poor hiking experiences—Pip seemed to share his insight into the difference between worlds.
Or maybe Caspian was projecting.
Either way, Alex’s satisfied smirk led him to believe that there was more to the conversation than appeared at surface level.
“I was new to Beaumont, too, when I moved here in high school. I think I started to have some of the same hesitations that you did, questioning what I wanted from life. I think you get that whenever you do something that goes against the grain. But um…” He took a sip of Chai, then lifted his gaze from his cup to look at Caspian. “In the end, I got through it by telling myself that the choices that I make might be life-changing, but they’re not binding.”
“What do you mean?” Caspian asked. He knew that Pip was onto something, and he desperately wanted to understand it.
“Well.” Pip tapped his fingers on his cup. “If you take moving to Beaumont as an example… You move here, right? You say goodbye to your family and friends in Riverside, sell your things, pack the rest up, and come here completely on your own. You live your life, but then, after months, years, decades, whatever, you decide you don’t like it. It might be hard to start again, but you can always move back. You can always do something to better your situation. So… that’s how I kind of get around living here. I'm trying something. If it doesn't work out, I can move back.”
You can always move back.
Caspian blinked.
The way Pip phrased it, it sounded obvious and easy. When he was with Bran in the palace after the ceremony, it all felt stifling and permanent. Pip was right.
The server came to their table. It was a different woman than last time he came here. Caspian ordered a Chai latte. Pip and Alex shook their heads to the offer of something more.
“I think, sometimes, it’s a lot to take in all at once, but if you don’t try, you don’t know, right?” Pip said when the server walked away from their table. He cleared his throat. “And if you’re anything like me, you know that no matter what, we will rise above. When times get tough, we soar.”
Caspian’s eyes widened. Pip smiled knowingly, then shrugged a single shoulder and took a sip of his latte.
Caspian gazed down at his fingers. It was what he'd had tried to explain to Bran; he had free will. He could choose to live with Bran, and if it didn't work out, he could move back. Each day he was in Bran's palace, he could be there because he chose to be.
“So, Alex,” Pip said once he set his cup back down. “How’s the dating situation going?”
“Oh my god,” Alex uttered, exasperated. “Don’t even get me started.”
They both knew. They'd all talked in a roundabout way, but these guys seemed to know exactly the dilemma Caspian faced, and it sounded as if Pip had experienced similar.
They knew. And now Caspian did, too.